


Fifteen Minutes of Fame

by mattressesflollop



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Established Relationship, Hanamaki starts trending, Kissing with cream puffs, M/M, Multi, seijou ot4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 15:56:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10441413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattressesflollop/pseuds/mattressesflollop
Summary: When Hanamaki makes an off-hand jab at a political policy, his post goes viral. While reporters and Hanamaki’s new fanclub, the Taka-HEROES (unofficial name, pending popular vote), try to dig into his life, the guys, meanwhile, give Hanamaki a reward.





	

On 5 January 2027, Hanamaki posted a scathing reaction to the new policy announced by the newly elected Prime Minister. In two hours, it had gone viral. In two hours and 2 minutes, reporters and Hanamaki’s new fanclub, the Taka-HEROES (unofficial name, pending popular vote), started looking into everything they could find out about Hanamaki Takahiro's professional and private life.

Hanamaki had read the policy out loud to Matsukawa at the breakfast table, in between pulls of his black tea. The biting comment that he'd scoffed out, mouth twisting from the news rather than the bitterness of his tea, had Matsukawa grinning. Angry passion was still passion, and therefore a smoking hot sight on Hanamaki’s face.

"Hell yeah," he agreed, despite his mind still sleep-addled enough that he wasn't quite able to muster the same level of indignancy as Hanamaki. Matsukawa appreciated a good snark, though, and he reached across the table to meet Hanamaki’s reach, and they slapped palms.

"I'm heading out!" Oikawa called, loping down the hallway, his sports bag strapped across his chest. He met Iwaizumi, who was lacing up his shoes, at the door. They kissed, Oikawa’s hands on the lapels of Iwaizumi’s casual suit, and Iwaizumi’s grasping and patting at Oikawa’s waist. Parting, they then walked over to the table to finish. Iwaizumi kissed Hanamaki first, a peck with Hanamaki’s natto-flavoured lips, while Oikawa tilted Matsukawa's chin up with a fond, devastating grin that Matsukawa was not ready for this early in the morning. Iwaizumi and Oikawa then switched places. At how seamlessly the two moved around and with each other, Matsukawa propped his chin in his hand, watching Iwaizumi approach with half-lidded eyes and a lazy smile. "You guys are like an old married couple," he observed, falsely innocent.

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes as he cupped Matsukawa's face, and planted an easy and firm kiss on his mouth, dragging his teeth along Matsukawa's bottom lip as a parting shot for those words. Oikawa and Hanamaki did something in the meantime that involved slurping sounds. And two loud smacks, only one of which was wet and involved their mouths.

\-----------------

When Hanamaki had decided later that morning to transcribe his thoughts into words, and share them online, Matsukawa was almost certain that he was the first one who saw Hanamaki’s post. He followed all of Hanamaki’s handles, mainly because it was useful to know when his partner had had a particularly good day at work, and posted a review of a restaurant that he'd really enjoyed, because it meant that Hanamaki came home incredibly horny, and tasting of wine and aromatic food.

He had been in between setting up shots for the sports marketing video at work, when his phone had buzzed with that notification. Matsukawa didn't care about getting yelled at by the client for checking his phone during work; being taller than most average Japanese men, it was particularly amusing to work in the video editing business, where people got incredibly nervous and incredibly polite when Matsukawa feinted that he could drop their half-a-million-yen camera at any moment. From a very tall height indeed.

So he pulled out his phone, grinning when he saw that Hanamaki had posted something. The words were more polished – sure, Hanamaki was a restaurant critic, but the man was good with his words in general – and it had him smirking fondly at the sarcasm that was obviously dripping in Hanamaki’s post. Matsukawa 'liked' the post, and pocketed his phone again.

Three hours later, during his lunch break, he checked his phone again. There were 25 missed phone calls, all from unrecognized numbers.

Weird. He shrugged, dismissing them all and firing up LINE to sext Iwaizumi. He would've messaged Hanamaki too, but unlike Iwaizumi, Hanamaki didn't mind sexting back during work, and Matsukawa couldn't risk popping a boner here. A little stirring of a stiffy was just the kind of headspace he wanted to be in now, to see him through the rest of work today, so he cheerily texted Iwaizumi exactly what he wanted to do with the shorter man's nipples when they were all home tonight.

His messages went unanswered, because the literature club that Iwaizumi was the advisor for had their meeting during lunch today.

Two hours after lunch, and another 15 missed, unknown phone calls, and one angry emoji from Iwaizumi, Matsukawa and his team finally wrapped up the shoot for today, and he went to his laptop to check his work email. There were over 50 emails from names he didn't recognize, but he only had to read the first two to realize what was going on.

>> _Good afternoon, Matsukawa-san. We're writing to contact you and request a few minutes of your time to speak about Hanamaki Takahiro-san. We find his post today of particular interest as a major influence in the national debate, and would like to ask about Hanamaki-san's stance on the following topics…_

The other read:

>> _It's a great honour to meet you, Matsukawa-san! We're the group of supporters for Hanamaki-sensei (our official group is here: Taka-HEREOS [external link]), and we would really appreciate a moment of your time to talk about Hanamaki-sensei. What inspires him in his writing?_

_We're huge supporters of his critical and insightful political commentary that he shared today, but also many of us adore his restaurant and eatery reviews in_ Asahi Shimbun _s culture section! So we would also beg your help in knowing what's his favourite food? Are there photographs of him cooking as well? It would be great…_

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Matsukawa had been through this media circus once already, when Oikawa had scored four straight service aces in a row, and catapulted the national team into the quarterfinals against a team that they had been serious underdogs against. And then he went on to take home bronze for Japan at the fucking _Olympics_  in his first time on the starting lineup with Ushijima, Bokuto, and Kageyama. Matsukawa had won very richly from his company's betting pool when that had happened, and celebrated with a video call to Oikawa, with Hanamaki and Iwaizumi crowded over him and on his lap, hollering how they proud they were at Oikawa's teary face on the screen.

The next morning, all three of them had woken up to phones that wouldn't quit ringing – from friends, media outlets, and everyone and their mother who knew that they were friends with Oikawa Tooru, _th_ _e_  Oikawa Tooru. It was a good thing that no one knew that they were also intimately involved with Oikawa.

They were all familiar with how invasive and persistent the first push of publicity was; when Oikawa had first been scouted after graduation from university, the team's head of publicity had asked him for his list of family, friends, and former teammates. Oikawa had had absolutely no qualms about announcing that Iwaizumi was his best friend, and so Iwaizumi had been grilled by the team's publicist about everything that he could and could not say about Oikawa to the press and on social media. He had also been given a staggering list of guidelines about how they could pose in any given photo together.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki had teased Iwaizumi and Oikawa relentlessly about all photos the two could no longer post on Instagram – although to be fair, Oikawa was the one who mainly used that. The high school that Iwaizumi taught at had a strict social media policy for its staff, and Iwaizumi was diligent in keeping all his pictures private.

And then little while after that, they'd all gotten their heads out of their own asses and into each other's instead. Hanamaki and Iwaizumi had been offended by Matsukawa's choice of words when he'd laughed at them about it. Oikawa hadn't cared as much; he was about to leave for his training camp with the Olympic team, and had decided that there were many other better uses for their mouths.

When he had returned from camp, though, they all sat around Matsukawa and Hanamaki’s living room, and hashed out how they would handle this. None of them were ashamed to be in love with three other men, and if the news got out, Oikawa and Iwaizumi were stubbornly adamant that they would make it work. Matsukawa and Hanamaki had the luxury of jobs that weren't as sensitive to what they did in their private lives. Iwaizumi had been adamant that his plans for teaching didn't have to mean being in that particular school, and that he could make a transfer to a new place or a new role, if it came down to it. None of the three of them wanted to compromise Iwaizumi’s drive to work with his students, or Oikawa’s career, though. Even though Oikawa didn't outright say it, they all recognized that his was the most precarious when it came to his private life.

Through whatever stroke of luck – and caution, even on his own part, about where he groped any of his given boyfriends when they were out of the apartment – they'd made it this long without anyone finding out.

\--------------

When Matsukawa walked into the living room later that evening, he was welcomed by the sight of Iwaizumi cupping Hanamaki’s head, scratching lightly through his hair and kissing him. Iwaizumi's hand was a dark tan against Hanamaki's brown-red hair, and the sight was delicious, like what strawberry caramel probably tasted like. Matsukawa had never tried that before, but if he could bottle the essence of Iwaizumi and Hanamaki together, and garnish that with Oikawa’s, he'd be set for life. Matsukawa watched with eyes half-lidded in appreciation, while Hanamaki smoothly untucked Iwaizumi’s shirt, and slipped his hands under.  

Matsukawa could see the slow swipe of Iwaizumi's tongue along Hanamaki's bottom lip when Iwaizumi turned his head slightly, before he pressed a deeper kiss up into Hanamaki's mouth. It wasn't even for show, he knew. Iwaizumi kissed like that, refusing to let his mouth really separate from anyone's when they were in the middle of kissing.

Hanamaki's groan, though, was definitely for show. It was low and ended with a breathless sigh, the one that Matsukawa knew Hanamaki used on him, when he wanted Matsukawa to swallow his entire cock down. Matsukawa grinned wide when Hanamaki opened his eyes to look at him, and he wondered how long the man of the hour had known he was standing there.

"Issei," Hanamaki said against Iwaizumi's lips, slithering his hands down past Iwaizumi's belt to grab the shorter man's ass to get him to groan against Hanamaki's lips, and break away for a moment.

"Come here."

Iwaizumi turned his head to notice Matsukawa for the first time, and his expression was dark and demanding. He held a hand out, and when Matsukawa had walked close enough to the couple, Iwaizumi wrapped arm securely around Matsukawa's waist, pulling him in.

"Hey," he greeted, fisting his hand in Matsukawa's jacket and pushing up to kiss Matsukawa firmly.

Matsukawa rested a hand on Hanamaki's head, weaving his fingers between the ones of Iwaizumi's hand still cupping Hanamaki's head as well. With the other, he wedged his hand down Iwaizumi's pants, where Hanamaki's hand found and held his. In a gesture that was a lot more romantic, fond, and inappropriate considering where their hands were resting, Hanamaki squeezed Matsukawa's hand in hello, right on the curve and dip of Iwaizumi's ass.

"Hey yourself," he grinned after the kiss had ended. "Couldn't wait?"

"Can you blame me?" Iwaizumi rubbed his hand over Hanamaki's hip. "I'm proud of this guy. Speaking his mind. Getting people to talk about the news too. Trending, even."

"Aw, Hajime~" Hanamaki cooed, and there was a light dusting of red over his cheeks, as he flirted through his embarrassment. It made Matsukawa smile a wry twist of his lips, that Hanamaki could get flustered by this, considering how wicked he could be when he was the one praising others.  

Iwaizumi evidently agreed, because he turned his head back to start mouthing along Hanamaki's jaw, the sucking kisses he made loud and just the way that Hanamaki and Matsukawa both liked it. Matsukawa, after all, knew how to appreciate a guy who knew how to make kisses sound sexy as well.

Speaking of. He tightened his grip in Hanamaki's hair and tipped the other's head back to face him, as he finally kissed Hanamaki after an entire day of work away. Hanamaki opened his mouth to him without missing a beat. His mouth tasted sweet and bitter under Matsukawa's, and Matsukawa wondered how well his restaurant-tasting had gone today. It was for a beer garden in Shinjuku, but trust Hanamaki to never miss dessert in his reviews. Matsukawa studied the fan of Hanamaki's light eyelashes, and the sun-spot freckles across the bridge of his nose, as Hanamaki scraped his teeth lightly along Matsukawa's tongue and he moaned, pleased.

Matsukawa had always liked keeping his eyes open when he kissed. He liked being able to watch the details of his partner's face, and it amused him, that they all had different reactions to being kissed. Hanamaki always slid his eyes closed, as if he was focusing on heightening his sense of touch, to feel every glide of their tongues together and firm press of lips and teeth. Iwaizumi, on the other hand, would fight to try to keep his eyes open, narrowed into slits of pleasure as he met Matsukawa's open gaze, but Matsukawa knew exactly how to curl his lips into a smile against Iwaizumi's. One swipe of his tongue across Iwaizumi's lip in a challenge for the man to kiss Matsukawa harder, and then Iwaizumi's eyes would slip closed as well, as he channeled all of his energy into kissing Matsukawa.

And then there was Oikawa. Until he'd kissed Oikawa, he hadn't been with anyone else who kept their eyes open as well. Oikawa did, sharp and large brown eyes meeting Matsukawa's with shivering electricity and intensity. 'Look at me,' Matsukawa could practically hear Oikawa purring to him each time they kissed and their gazes locked. 'See me. Look at how much I want you, Issei.'

The sound of the lock to their front door turning had all their breaths hitching. Hanamaki slipped his mouth from Matsukawa's, opening his eyes with a mischievous look so familiar to Matsukawa, that it had him slouching slightly, like he used to in high school, ready to play with their (former) captain. The anticipation and arousal thrumming between them had Hanamaki moving them easily and expertly, Iwaizumi grumbling only slightly, pupils dark already, as Hanamaki rucked his shirt up even higher. He slung his arm around Hanamaki's neck gamely, though, and closed his rough fingers around Matsukawa's jaw. Matsukawa pressed slow kisses against Hanamaki's neck, as they waited for Oikawa to walk inside.

"Makki," Oikawa trilled, a thump signaling how he'd dropped his sports bag in the hallway. "Guess what I got—"

Matsukawa watched Oikawa as the man froze at the sight of Hanamaki and Matsukawa's hands roving and pinching at Iwaizumi's chest and abdomen, and both Iwaizumi and Matsukawa kissing dark marks onto Hanamaki's neck.

"All right," Oikawa said, managing to make his voice sound husky when any other person with a drop of sexual drive would have wheezed. Iwaizumi's nipples could make grown men weep, all right?

He held up the bag of cream puffs from Hanamaki's favorite bakery. "Who's eating cream off of Makki’s tongue first?"

"Me," Hanamaki immediately said. He dropped his hand from Iwaizumi's nipple and wormed out of Matsukawa and Iwaizumi's grip, to walk over and grab the bag from Oikawa with a firm kiss. Oikawa was just about to close his teeth over Hanamaki's tongue for a pull, when Hanamaki moved his head away to look into the bag. A pastry box sat inside, and Hanamaki pulled it out with an elated groan. He opened up the lid and swiped his fingers through the cream to taste it.

"God. I thought they always sold out of pistachio by now, Tooru."

"I called the bakery up during lunch and asked them to hold an order," Oikawa preened with a proud smile.

Hanamaki just made another pleased sound, and lifted the cream puff out to take a bite. As Matsukawa walked over with Iwaizumi to join the pair, Hanamaki held the pastry out for Oikawa, against the man’s lips. Neither Iwaizumi nor Matsukawa had as much of a sweet tooth, compared to those two. That didn't stop Iwaizumi from slinging his arm around Oikawa's neck, and drawing Oikawa down after he'd finished chewing, to kiss away the powdered sugar clinging to his lips.

"Don't mix food and sex," Hanamaki chided, pretending to be offended. Matsukawa shifted to stand behind Hanamaki, and wrapped his arms around the man, propping his chin on Hanamaki's shoulder to watch Iwaizumi slide his tongue into Oikawa's mouth. The way he stroked the inside of Oikawa's cheek was clear, from the moving outline that Matsukawa could see, and Oikawa's hitched, breathy moan.

"They can't help it, 'Hiro." Matsukawa smirked. "You know how easily worked up they get."

Iwaizumi flipped the both of them off and Oikawa lowered his hands to Iwaizumi's slacks, stripping off the man's belt right then and there. Hanamaki whistled appreciatively at the smooth motion, and took another bite of his cream puff.

Matsukawa wormed his fingers underneath Hanamaki's shirt, but left his hands resting on Hanamaki's abdomen while he finished eating. His fingers twitched every once in awhile over Hanamaki's warm, smooth skin, a reflex to how Oikawa unbuttoned Iwaizumi's trousers, and pushed them sliding down the man's legs. Matsukawa looked from the firm, toned thighs that were exposed, to the strip of equally appetizing skin of Oikawa's torso, as Iwaizumi helped Oikawa shrug off his team jacket, and pull off his t-shirt. With a silent look at each other, Iwaizumi lowered his head and mouthed at Oikawa's collarbone, before sliding his lips down the center of Oikawa's chest, biting at his abs. Oikawa fisted his hand in Iwaizumi's thick hair, and let out a sultry, "Iwa—ahn," sliding his dark gaze from the top of Iwaizumi's head, to look at Hanamaki and Matsukawa from under his lashes.

"Takahiro," Matsukawa tried to bite back his groan. "Babe, please finish eating soon."

Matsukawa wasn't sure what it was that spurred Hanamaki, but the man set the last bite of the pastry back into the box. Pushing Matsukawa's hands away from his stomach, Hanamaki bent down slowly from the waist, pressing his ass against Matsukawa's semi – because Iwaizumi's nipples combined with the sight of him working his own tongue and teeth around Oikawa's, was more than enough to make any man sport a bit of a chub. Hanamaki set the box down onto the ground, and when he pushed the box off to the side, the light rustle of the plastic bag was the signal Matsukawa needed to grasp Hanamaki's hips and grind against him.

Instead of straightening up, Hanamaki planted his hands on the ground and spread his legs slightly, into a downward dog that was filthy.

"Fuck," Matsukawa breathed. "Oh baby, you look so fuckin' good." He moved a hand to push Hanamaki's shirt so it slid down the slope of Hanamaki's torso, putting the long, lean lines of his back on display.

Hanamaki snickered, looking over his shoulder at Matsukawa and utterly pleased at how quickly he could make the man incoherent.

Oikawa took that moment to drop onto his knees in front of Hanamaki, pulling his face back to face forwards and into an open-mouthed kiss of tangled tongues. Matsukawa watched Oikawa watch Hanamaki, seeing how Oikawa's gaze drank in every hair of Hanamaki's brows, and the slope of his cheeks as he breathed and swept his tongue in Oikawa's mouth.

Matsukawa rolled his hips quietly but steadily against Hanamaki's ass, and dipped his fingers under the hem of Hanamaki's pants, stroking at the firm skin there, while he stared at the other two kissing. He saw Oikawa's eyes wander upwards, to study Hanamaki's hairline with a gentle look, even as Oikawa's face grew more flushed and he bit and sucked at Hanamaki's bottom lip. Then his gaze flicked up past Hanamaki's head and locked onto Matsukawa's. It was like a switch was flipped, and Matsukawa and Oikawa were both immediately grasping at Hanamaki's clothes, panting with arousal and the need to get at the man under them.

Matsukawa yanked Hanamaki's sweatpants over that bony, pert ass, letting the pants pool at Hanamaki's knees given how wide the man had spread his stance. As if that wasn't enough to make him reach down and grab his own erection for a moment to cool it, Matsukawa had to endure how Hanamaki flexed his ass slightly, putting more weight on one side of his body as he fisted a hand in Oikawa's hair and kissed his deeper. Matsukawa could picture the smirk on Hanamaki's face as Oikawa rucked up his shirt even more. A low, sharp sound from his mouth made it clear that Oikawa had closed his fingers around a nipple to pinch and tug at it.

When Matsukawa reached his hands back down to fist Hanamaki's cock, a pair of hands grabbed his, and pushed them back to rest on Hanamaki's thighs instead. Matsukawa looked down and grinned.

"I was wondering where you'd gone."

Iwaizumi pumped Hanamaki's cock from base to tip, grinning hungrily back at Matsukawa when they felt Hanamaki's legs tremble. "Didn't look like any of you were going to be able to last long enough to rim Takahiro first." Holding the lube that he'd gotten from the bedroom up to Matsukawa, Iwaizumi adjusted his position, kneeled under the space created by the upward arch of Hanamaki’s hips. The top of his head pressed up against Hanamaki's stomach with each breath the man took.  

"Iwa-chan is so prepared," Oikawa cooed against Hanamaki's lips, and pressed a kiss to the base of Hanamaki's neck as the man dropped his head down with a low groan. Matsukawa swiped the lube over his hole, as Iwaizumi opened his mouth and ran his tongue over the head of Hanamaki's cock.

"Guys," Hanamaki groaned, "quit talking and start fucking me. I'm not gonna be able to hold myself up like this for much longer."

"I know you can do it, Takahiro," Iwaizumi grinned, pulling his head back to kiss at the musky, wiry thatch of Hanamaki's pubic hair, while pressing his thumb against the slick of Hanamaki's dripping cock. "A guy with upper body strength like you."

"You did  _two_  more pushups than me, Hajime," Hanamaki hissed. "So don't get fuckin— Ah—!"

Matsukawa had thrust two lubed fingers into Hanamaki in one stroke, and curled them to rub upwards. Oikawa was there to steady Hanamaki's arms as the man jolted forward, Iwaizumi grasping his thighs.

There was the soft rustle of Oikawa's trackpants sliding onto the floor. Hanamaki was panting, his arms shaking slightly as he held himself up in his triangle position, while Matsukawa slid another finger into his tight heat. Iwaizumi's hand was around the base of his cock, and the man ducked his head to suck and take the rest of it in. 

"Come on, Makki," Oikawa purred, fisting his hand in Hanamaki's hair to pull the man's head up as he kneeled in front of Hanamaki. He bumped his cock affectionately against Hanamaki's cheek. "Put your cute mouth on me."   

Matsukawa was soon rubbing the tip of his cock against Hanamaki's hole, listening to Oikawa's low, breathy moans as Hanamaki teased his teeth along Oikawa's shaft, and sucked on the head. Heat pooled in his gut. "Fuck, 'Hiro –"

"Do it, Issei." Iwaizumi drew his head back from pressing Hanamaki's cock into his throat, voice raspy, as he moved one of his hands to circle Matsukawa's wrist, squeezing at him for a moment. "Make him come f'r us."

"Since you asked, baby," Matsukawa purred, relishing the swat of Iwaizumi's hand against his thigh as he pushed himself into Hanamaki in one thrust.

Hanamaki moaned around Oikawa's cock, and clenched down on Matsukawa's, and Matsukawa grit his teeth, trying to not come at that. "Tight," he murmured, and started to rock himself into and out of Hanamaki, feeling the lube that was smeared over the curve of Hanamaki's ass press onto the front of his thighs with each thrust.

"So good – mm – Makki." Oikawa fisted his hand tighter in Hanamaki's hair, his hips rolling up faster into Hanamaki's mouth. "Iwa…Iwa-chan, are you really making our Makki feel good?"

They all heard the annoyed grunt that Iwaizumi made in response, his mouth already full of Hanamaki's cock. He pulled off with a loud pop, like a punch to Oikawa's gut, and then in the next moment, Hanamaki moaned around Oikawa, sucking hard over Oikawa's leaking slit, and fucked his hips wildly back against Matsukawa. Lewd, messy, gurgling noises sounded from his groin, where Iwaizumi had deep throated him, nose pressed against his pubes and hands grasping at Hanamaki and Matsukawa's legs, as he tried to breathe.    

"Ah –" Oikawa came first, with a guttural growl, cock pulsing as he pulled away from Hanamaki's mouth and spilled onto the floor. Hanamaki gasped, and Matsukawa took that as his freedom to push harder into him, pressing Hanamaki to rock up onto his toes for a moment, before pulling his hips back down onto his cock.

"Issei – god – harder, like that." Hanamaki was straining, rolling his hips between Iwaizumi's mouth and Matsukawa's cock. "I can't –"

The way his legs shook now from both the stimulation from Iwaizumi and Matsukawa, and the effort of staying in this position for so long, had Iwaizumi moving away from his cock. "Hang in there, Takahiro," he murmured, voice low and promising, when he shifted out from under Hanamaki's pose. 

Oikawa had moved to Hanamaki's side, his movements slow and relaxed from his orgasm, but his fingers as focused and accurate as ever, while he stroked and pinched and tugged at Hanamaki's nipple. Pushing the pillows that he'd brought from the couch, when he'd grabbed the lube as well, which made Matsukawa smirk fondly at how cute a prepared Iwaizumi was, Iwaizumi moved to kneel in front of Hanamaki. Knees cushioned, he slid two pillows over to where Hanamaki and Matsukawa were joined. He pulled Hanamaki's arms up to wrap around his shoulders, and Matsukawa stopped for a moment, still buried deep inside Hanamaki, as they all shifted, lowering onto the ground. Oikawa hands wandered as he helped them with the pillows, making Hanamaki curse as Oikawa fisted his cock and pulled the foreskin teasingly over the head.

With Matsukawa and Hanamaki on their knees as well, Iwaizumi pressed forward to trap Hanamaki between them, his chest flush against Hanamaki's and hand closing around the man's cock. Oikawa had relinquished it to stand behind Matsukawa as the man grasped Hanamaki's hips, and sheathed himself back into Hanamaki with a thrust, pushing Hanamaki back against Iwaizumi.

"You're so strong," Oikawa purred into Matsukawa's ear, pushing two hands to thumb and flick at Matsukawa's nipples. "The way you pound that dick of yours, Issei… I love how loose you make Makki and Iwa-chan when you're done with them."

Matsukawa closed his eyes for a moment, hips stuttering and pounding into Hanamaki. Shit, Oikawa was playing dirty.

"'s that true, Takahiro?" Iwaizumi grinned, his forehead pressed against Hanamaki's while they panted against each other's mouths, and he pumped at Hanamaki's cock. The slick sounds of Hanamaki's precum and Iwaizumi's spit, as Iwaizumi's hand worked at Hanamaki's hardness, had Oikawa excitedly sucking at Matsukawa's neck. "You feeling it?"

"Y-yeah." Hanamaki's voice was strained higher, but no less snarky and cheeky. "Issei's cock is the best, next to mine." He pushed his tongue out to drag over Iwaizumi's parted lips. "So you're going to have to do a lot better than that, Hajime."

"Fuck… You two," Matsukawa panted. He had a thing for Hanamaki and Iwaizumi competing – always had, maybe even on a subconscious level back in high school, when they were both friends with strong, tensed biceps and Iwaizumi's triumphant yells, and Hanamaki's serious face, dotted with sweat, demanding a rematch.

He pressed deep into Hanamaki and felt his balls tighten, ready to come as Hanamaki all but sat himself back down onto Matsukawa's cock and Oikawa ran firm fingers down Matsukawa's neck, squeezing slightly.  

"Issei," Iwaizumi murmured, flicking his gaze from Hanamaki's to Matsukawa's, and Oikawa tugged at his earlobe with his teeth. Hanamaki gasped low, "Issei—"

He came with a groan, pulling Hanamaki down onto his cock as he spurted inside him. "Fuck – Takahiro…"

Oikawa tugged Matsukawa's nipple and squeezed the sides of his neck, making him pant, "fucker," shakily, as he felt his cock twitch and spurt a final time.  

Hanamaki was clamping down on him then, the feeling of Matsukawa filling him, and how Iwaizumi relentlessly thumbed at his slit and the sensitive underside of his cock, making him shake and come all over Iwaizumi's hand.

"Perfect," Oikawa murmured, pleased, as Hanamaki slumped back against Matsukawa, and they both sank the rest of the way to the floor.

Bare ass on the ground and one hand behind him to keep himself propped up, Matsukawa stretched his legs out, Hanamaki settling between them and laying back against his chest. His head tipped back against Matsukawa's shoulder. Beside them, Oikawa gave Iwaizumi a smile, curling his fingers to beckon him, and Iwaizumi just grinned sharply back, in a way that had the other three shivering.

"Guess it's just me, now, huh?" With a smirk, Iwaizumi got off from the pillow, and lay down on it inside, lengthwise so the other three could see the profile view of his body, legs propped up and spreading easily, his hard cock flat against his abdomen. "Shame."

Matsukawa rarely ever got to see Iwaizumi jerk himself off, mainly because it was too fun and hot, to have Iwaizumi under all of their hands, panting and bucking for release. He could feel his arousal make a valiant attempt to do just that, but there was something mesmerizing about watching Iwaizumi touch himself. That shouldn't have been surprising, though; Matsukwa drank in the sight of Iwaizumi's tan skin, the muscles clear and flexing with his movements, as his arm followed the way his hand stroked his cock, and his thighs and abs tensed and released in a rhythm with how he fucked himself up into his fist.

"Mm—" Iwaizumi panted, his head turning to them, even as he shut his eyes after a moment, cheeks red from arousal and embarrassment of being on display as well. "Hiro," he breathed, twisting his hand around the head of his cock.

"Issei," he growled, dragging his foreskin over his cock and then pumping himself at his base, firm.

"Tooru—ah!" Iwaizumi gasped the last name, of the man who had just prowled over to close his hand around Iwaizumi's balls, and tug one lightly as he swept his thumb over the skin.  

"Don't stop, Hajime," Oikawa murmured, his voice low and serious, as he pressed his fingers to knead at Iwaizumi's balls. Matsukawa watched how Iwaizumi's grip tightened around himself, and he canted his hips up into Oikawa's hand.

It was a sight that had Hanamaki reaching back and looping his arm around Matsukawa's neck. "How do they feel, Tooru?"

"Nice," Oikawa replied, grinning down at Iwaizumi. "They're so heavy and full, Makki. I think Iwa-chan's got a big load today."

"Good." Hanamaki wrapped his fingers in Matsukawa's hair, and reached back to hold Matsukawa's hand and bring it to rest on his abdomen. Matsukawa had absolutely no problem getting to touch Hanamaki more, when his entire brain was melting at the sight of Iwaizumi's dick leaking precum as he pushed at his tip, while Oikawa rubbed his thumb at the soft skin that stretched between his balls, and hefted one, then the other, in a rhythm slower than Iwaizumi's own fast strokes.

Oikawa looked over at Hanamaki. "Mm? Do you want to see Iwa-chan's cream, Takahiro?"

"Yeah," Hanamaki smiled back, bumping his head affectionately against Matsukawa's jaw. "Then I want to wipe it all off of his abs and your fingers, and and feed it back to him." Matsukawa made a low, pleased noise at that. 

"Fuck – you –" Iwaizumi gasped, and sank his teeth into his bottom lip as he arched up, back bowing, and cum spurting across his chest. "Taka…Tooru –"

"Shh, Hajime." Oikawa stopped the patterns he'd been drawing over Iwaizumi's balls, and cupped his hand instead steadily around them, as Iwaizumi shook through his orgasm, before relaxing back down onto the ground. He was still smiling at Iwaizumi, when the other reached up to cup the back of his head, and pull him down for a kiss.

The quiet, pleased sound that Hanamaki made had Matsukawa grinning, and pressing his lips against Hanamaki's sweat-matted hair.

"Congrats, by the way. You did good today."

Hanamaki laughed, shifting back and pressing his back against Matsukawa's sticky and spent cock. "Thanks, Issei." His tone was genuine, and Matsukawa was thankful, that Hanamaki knew the meaning behind his casual words as well. "I wasn't expecting what happened with what I said. But this was predictable," he chuckled, and turned his head to kiss Matsukawa's jaw.

"Because they get worked up easily?" Matsukawa echoed him with a lazy smirk, looking back at Oikawa, who had draped himself over Iwaizumi's body. His hands were splayed over the sides of  Iwaizumi's ribs, head tipped back while Iwaizumi kissed lazily at his neck.

"Because you _all_ get worked up easily," Hanamaki smirked, and pushed himself up to stand with a groan.

"Tooru, you eaten dinner yet?"

"Hm? No," Oikawa replied, and scratched gently over Iwaizumi's nipple. Matsukawa watched as Iwaizumi's leg twitched, and pressed against Oikawa's in pure reflex, before he shoved it harder.

"Then go eat," Iwaizumi huffed, nipping at Oikawa's shoulder before he pulled his head back. "Takahiro cooked."

"Only if Makki sits on my lap and feeds me," Oikawa protested, and was suddenly sent rolling off of Iwaizumi as the man kneed his thigh. Hanamaki hooked his arms under the armpits of Oikawa's flailing arms, and started to drag the man into the bedroom for a shower.

Iwaizumi watched the proceedings as he sank back to lie on the ground, adjusting his pillow behind his head. He stretched out an arm to his side, before he turned his head to look sideways at Matsukawa. "C'mon," he said.

Matsukawa bent his legs, and in one long stride of a scoot, with the pillow under him helping, joined Iwaizumi. He pillowed his head on Iwaizumi's abdomen. "So, this is nice."

Iwaizumi buried his hand in Matsukawa's hair, stroking and rubbing at it, and Matsukawa let his eyes slip closed.

After a few moments, with the sound of the shower spray and Hanamaki's low, teasing voice mixing with Oikawa's, Matsukawa added, "Hajime. It's your turn to clean the floors, right?"

He was expecting a similar shove, but instead got an amused snort, feeling Iwaizumi's core tighten and release against his cheek when the man laughed. " _Issei_. Why else do you think I let you guys fuck literally on the floor?"   

\--------------

After celebrating Hanamaki's sudden internet fame, Matsukawa was the first to broach the other side of things over dinner.

"So, I've gotten a lot of emails and calls today."

Iwaizumi and Oikawa looked at him, Iwaizumi curious and Oikawa concerned and knowing. Hanamaki set his bowl down, and gave Matsukawa an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry. I'm going to put up a post later tonight – you know, thank everyone for their comments, and the haters for hating, and – that'll sort it, I'm thinking."

"Really?" Iwaizumi asked, surprised, holding a piece of chicken paused in mid-air in his chopsticks while he spoke. "I mean, I hope it does blow over easy for you like that, Takahiro…"

Hanamaki grinned, settling in his chair. "I think so. Hajime, internet celebrity comes and goes stupidly fast. You don't even know a third of the stuff that's trending each day, and the stuff you do know is 'cause your students gossip about it."

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine."

"I'm just glad I started a discussion," Hanamaki said, serious in his sentiment this time, as he stared down at his plate. "But I don't want to be political, and I don't want people thinking they can come to my blog, or read my reviews, and expect me to get political."

"We understand, Makki," Oikawa reassured, and of all of them in the room, he was the most suited to understand that. While there'd been a handful of Japanese athletes who had come out in the past decade, and even more on the international stages of sports, Oikawa didn't feel the drive to broadcast himself as a gay athlete – technically, beyond a label, but all the public would really see was Oikawa's relationship with one of the men around the table with him right now. He didn't tolerate discrimination or bullying where he saw it happen to others, or sometimes experienced himself, but in the public eye, Oikawa wanted to put volleyball first.  

"Thanks," Hanamaki replied quietly, shoulders relaxing as he looked at Oikawa for a few long moments. He pushed his leg past Matsukawa's, to press his foot against Oikawa's.

"And," he added, turning to Matsukawa on his left. "You can delete all the messages. This thing'll blow over by tomorrow."

Matsukawa merely nodded; it was Hanamaki's life, after all, and he was all too happy to take his cue and not have to deal with any more notifications.

\--------------

The next morning, Matsukawa woke when Iwaizumi leaned over the bed, and bit at his rump. More accurately, he woke when Iwaizumi had spent twenty seconds biting his teeth over it, trying to wake him up, before the man finally smacked his ass a few times, startling Matsukawa out of his sleep with a bleary, "who—wha—?"

Iwaizumi was already kissing his question out of his mouth, before hurrying out of the door at Oikawa's call of his name, from down the hallway. Matsukawa groaned, pushing himself out of bed and padding over to the – recently cleaned – living room.

Hanamaki gave him a short, low whistle, and Matsukawa made sure to lean against the wall, legs crossed at the angle and dick hanging low and on display.

"It's your turn to clean if you guys do anything in the living room again," Oikawa called from the doorway, where he was bracing himself needlessly against Hajime's arm, and tugging on his sneakers.  

Hanamaki waved a lazy hand at Oikawa and Iwaizumi as they left, and Matsukawa scratched at his stomach idly.

Three minutes later, Oikawa was barreling back through the doorway, Iwaizumi following with a protective hand outstretched and pushing at Oikawa's shoulders from behind.

"Did they see?" Oikawa hissed at Iwaizumi, when the oldest had shut the door and dropped his work bag on the ground.  

"Tooru. Calm down. Calm _down_ ," Iwaizumi sighed. He sounded frazzled as well, though, mouth drawn down in frown. "We made sure I was in front, you saw, remember? Even if they got a pic, it wouldn't be of you."

"Wait, pic?" Hanamaki looked between the two of them. "What's going on?"

Oikawa took a breath. "When we left through the gates of the complex, there were some people waiting. Some of them were holding their phones up, and Hajime and I ran back before one of them could take a photo. I think."

He groaned, worrying his lip between his teeth. "I can't believe the paparazzi tracked you down this fast. Even mine took a couple days to find out where I lived."

Iwaizumi scrubbed a hand through his hair, and rested his hand supportively between Oikawa's shoulderblades. "I don't think they were the paparazzi. They looked younger and – I don't know – more like they'd be fans of Takahiro’s."

Oikawa snorted. "Remember Higuchi-chan? They start young, now." Higuchi had been a freelance teen tabloid darling, who waited outside Oikawa's gym and apartment, to misquote Oikawa and take photos of him, until Oikawa's publicity team had wrangled him.

"Whoever they are," Iwaizumi breathed, settling his hands on his hips, "we need to find a way to get you out of here."

"Me?" Oikawa asked, indignant. "What about you, Iwa-chan?"

Iwaizumi shook his head. "No one cares if some schoolteacher's seen coming out of Takahiro’s apartment. It'll just be me stopping by for a few drinks to celebrate, and sure, I stayed over, but that's what guy friends do."

Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and Oikawa all frowned at that.

"You, on the other hand," Iwaizumi continued, sliding his hand down to squeeze Oikawa's once for the comment he'd just made, "people are going to focus on more. Even if they don't suspect anything, you know it's a risk we don't want."

"It's _fine_ , I can handle that," Oikawa protested, but Matsukawa was already walking over to them. He held his hand out to Iwaizumi.

"Phone, please."

He scrolled through Iwaizumi's messages, finding Kyoutani's contact, and sending him a quick message to come by Hanamaki and Matsukawa's to help Iwaizumi out with scaring off the people outside.

Kyoutani sent back a middle finger emoji, but Matsukawa knew the guy was pretty loyal when it came to doing Iwaizumi a favour. He pressed the phone back into Iwaizumi's hand, leaning down to kiss the frown on the man's face. Feeling Iwaizumi's hand land on his waist, squeezing his hip once, had Matsukawa smiling slightly to end their kiss.

He headed back to the room to change – or rather, actually put on his clothes. He trusted Hanamaki and Iwaizumi to better see Oikawa through the upset to his morning; Hanamaki had the more assessing mind, and the willingness and patient, sardonic humour of a guy who had younger siblings, to talk Oikawa through the increasingly wild plans he spun out, methodical and detailed as well. Iwaizumi, meanwhile, had an incomparable two-decades-and-counting-long work experience with settling Oikawa Tooru.

"I can climb onto your fire escape," Matsukawa heard Oikawa devise, as he tugged on his shirt.

"What if someone sees you?" Hanamaki's tone was even, matching in treating Oikawa's idea with the same level of seriousness that Oikawa saw this situation.

The exchange continued until a few minutes before Matsukawa walked back into the living room, scratching at his now-clothed stomach. All three of the other men were leaning against the walls of the hallway, Oikawa and Hanamaki standing shoulder to shoulder, as Oikawa leaned his head against Hanamaki's.

"I wish I could take this as easily as you, Makki," Oikawa said with a frown.

"I just know it's going to be over soon," Hanamaki replied with a small smile, at peace with the idea. "'Fifteen minutes of fame,' and all that jazz. So no point in spinning things out, or thinking it's going to get even bigger than it already has."

"I don't want you to think we’re not happy for you about this, though." Iwaizumi scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I mean, the whole thing, because you deserve to be heard, Takahiro. You say good stuff. I want you to get the attention that'll be good for you, and what you wanna do. Fifteen minutes doesn't seem long enough."

Oikawa made an indignant "yeah," cupping Hanamaki's jaw and turning the man's head to look into his fierce gaze. "Hajime, Issei, and I can deal with this. As long as you make the most of it."

They waited for a few more minutes in relative silence, Oikawa simmering with tension, while Iwaizumi calmed himself by anchoring Oikawa with their fingers brushing, and Hanamaki tipped his head up against the wall. Staring up at the ceiling with a familiar distant look in his eyes, Hanamaki's train of thought was clear to Matsukawa; he knew it meant that the man of the hour was thinking about just what he could do in this situation.

Matsukawa, meanwhile, moved around the kitchen preparing his breakfast, and let the quiet, quotidian sounds filter through his partners' thoughts. 

It was approaching the time when not even luck could guarantee that Iwaizumi and Oikawa would make it on time for work and practice, when the doorbell rang. Oikawa pushed off from the wall, quick but discernibly less tense – no longer needing to strain himself to project a sense of control over his upset state. He opened the door for Kyoutani.

Their younger former teammate, and Iwaizumi's current gym buddy, stared at all four of them gathered in the hallway. Matsukawa had taken a seat, leaning against Iwaizumi's legs, and hooked one finger in the top of Iwaizumi's sock. He'd been tugging idly at it each time Iwaizumi tried to move his foot away, or towards him.

"Kyouken-cha—"

Kyoutani interrupted Oikawa and all further pleasantries with a narrowed gaze and a blunt, "they're gone now."

"Great!" Iwaizumi exhaled, shaking his foot free and walking over to give Kyoutani a fist bump. "Thanks a lot, Kyoutani. I know –"

"It was fun," Kyoutani said abruptly, again. Iwaizumi's thanks were always sincere, which was probably what drove Kyoutani to stop them so he didn't have to deal with the second-hand embarrassment that Iwaizumi never once seemed to feel. Matsukawa understood the younger man's pain, sometimes. "You're playing on the opposite dodgeball team tonight, though."

Iwaizumi huffed a chuckle. "Itching for a rematch, I take it."

"Let his team win for doing us a solid, Hajime," Hanamaki teased, just to see Kyoutani level an impressively withering glare.

"Hanamaki-san." Apart from that flat greeting and rebuke, Kyoutani made no further comment, let alone reference to Hanamaki's trending status.

Matsukawa grinned to himself, settling back against the wall as he watched Iwaizumi and Oikawa grab their bags. Hanamaki shooed Oikawa and Iwaizumi off with a stern look and smacks to their backs. "Don't worry about me, or any of this. Just get to work on time!"

"That's rich," Matsukawa teased, and Hanamaki's flirtatious, sharp grin had Oikawa and Iwaizumi easing slightly, as the atmosphere relaxed back into their usual ebb and flow.

Sure enough, as Hanamaki had surmised, his internet fame passed as the day did. The early afternoon brought a new viral video from overseas, but not before Hanamaki had made the most of his so-called thirty seconds of fame. On the heels of his post last night, he followed up with more today, taking the chance to point his followers to the journalists and satirical figures he admired, and considered more eloquent and minded for this topic. Seizing on his fame, he also reached out to some of the stratospheric culinary figures in the business, and now had a couple of contacts and follow ups, with both the most innovative established chefs and restaurateurs, as well as the new and hungry faces just starting their dreams in making their own pop up shop.

His phone, which he'd finally taken off of silence last night, buzzed this morning with a message from one of his new contacts, who was putting together a trial run of her dish at a food festival tomorrow. Hanamaki, though, was busy trying to fend off a cold-nosed Iwaizumi, who had gotten up to eat breakfast, before Issei's silent staring and Oikawa's grumbles had lured him back to bed.

"Hajime–"

"You're warm," Iwaizumi pointed out the obvious, as he wedged himself between Oikawa's front and Hanamaki's back, and buried his nose into Hanamaki's hair. His hands stroked over Hanamaki's stomach, before stilling as he settled back in, to rest.

It took all of five seconds for Oikawa to spread and squash himself over the both of them. He pretended to sound offended, but even Matsukawa, who was investing all of his energy into going back to sleep on Hanamaki's other side, could tell that he was just seeking out the fun of needling the two men underneath him. Getting them to talk to and grumble and make fun of him was all affection that Oikawa saved up inside of him.  

By the time that Matsukawa cracked one eye slowly open, Iwaizumi had shoved Oikawa down the stretch of Hanamaki's body, to curl up against the man's legs. He'd joined Oikawa, though, nestling Oikawa between him and Hanamaki, in as much as Iwaizumi could spoon Oikawa, who was taller and had more wandering hands than he did. They bickered easily and quietly with each other, Oikawa's arms folded over Hanamaki's stomach, and Iwaizumi's head resting on Hanamaki's side. Iwaizumi’s arm was slung over Takahiro’s chest, and Matsukawa could feel those rough knuckles brush and press against his side with each breath he took. 

Matsukawa settled back against the bed and stared at Hanamaki's face. After a few moments, Hanamaki opened his eyes slightly, and looked at Matsukawa.

"Go back to sleep, Issei."

"Mmph." Matsukawa yawned in Hanamaki's face, snapping his mouth shut before the other man could sneak his fingers into his mouth and do weird things with his cheeks again in payback. "Your phone buzzed again."

Hanamaki rubbed his cheek against his pillow, then repeated the motion against Matsukawa's bare shoulder. "It's fine. They'll still be there after this." He said it with a small note of delight, underneath his calm tone. "I want to sleep."

Matsukawa felt his heart trip at that sound, and the hum he made was slightly strained from trying to sound casual. Admitting that he'd been bested, he curled his arm around Hanamaki's head. "I love you."

Hanamaki opened both eyes, turning his head away from the pillow to look at Matsukawa with both. They curved into a pleased look. "Aw, Issei."

Hey. At least he'd said it. 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic started because I wanted some catharsis from the socio-political crazy that was happening in January. A couple of months, a lot of Hanamaki appreciation (seriously, this boy needs more love), and some smut later, I hope you guys enjoyed the read. Thanks! 
> 
> Huge thanks to my bae for being the #1 Hanamaki supporter.


End file.
